Aizen Sosuke: Psychological Therapist
by 2BfrankIMAhotdog
Summary: What if Aizen were a different kind of evil? Find out what happens in a reality where Aizen Sosuke has a license to inflict therapy upon others. T for language, some disturbing material. Like it? Love it? Hate it? Please rate it.
1. Ichigo

Hello everybody! After a long bought of writer's block, I'm back with a new idea and a new series! That's right! For everyone who loved the antics of my first (abandoned) work, _The Mankey House, _comes a differently-toned tale of one mad psychologist, an afterlife full of victims, and all the behind-closed-doors wackiness you can expect when Aizen Sosuke is a practitioner of therapy. If you haven't guessed, this is a _Bleach_fanfic. Also, each chapter is a separate story.

As usual, I do not own Bleach or any other existing materials within the fanfic.

* * *

First up is Ichigo Kurosaki, "Substitute Shinigami"

* * *

Ichigo warily slouched into the office, deathly aware of the fact that he was in a fanfic of fluctuating quality that could easily kill him off at any given second. The room, so drab and professional-looking, was empty. A padded leather chair sat behind an impressive wooden desk that supported a bittersweet photograph of Momo Hinamori and her Captain-slash-stalking victim, Aizen Sosuke. Hinamori had never looked happier. Aizen looked like he would rather be somewhere- _anywhere_- else. Currently, outside the photo, it seemed that he _was_ somewhere else.

The room remained empty, to Ichigo's disappointment and slight relief. He really didn't want to talk to Aizen about the hollow incident, no matter how much Rukia protested. Deciding that he tried his best, Ichigo turned to leave when the door slammed shut, blocking his escape and revealing none other than (Dun-_dun-DUNNN_!) Aizen's _hair_! (And Aizen as well...)

"Ichigo Kurosaki. Right on time," said the shrink in a cool, confident voice, "You look tense. Please, lay down on that couch."

Ichigo turned to see a stereotypical therapist's couch in a darkened corner of the office. The substitute shinigami began to get comfortable when Aizen accosted him.

"No. Not _that_ couch. I meant _that _couch over there." He gestured grandly to a massive white couch with fluffy white cushions and ivory-colored leather that glistened in the sunlight as it flowed in a ray through the open window that looked out on Aizen's koi pond and the surrounding grounds.

Ichigo's face lit up, "Y-you mean it?"

"Of course. Bankai-strength stress like yours needs a Bankai-strength comfort zone, so _you_ sit in the Ban-couch and _I'll _take the other."

"The Ban-couch?"

"Indeed. Few know this, but that couch is actually the creation of my Bankai."

Ichigo whipped around and reached for his zanpakuto. "_Your Bankai_? You mean your sword is out?"

Aizen motioned to an umbrella stand where the released zanpakuto glimmered dejectedly, "You have nothing to fear: my couch is not made for combat purposes. Just the opposite, in fact. After long battles and using my Shikai, I then rest by using my Bankai. That is its perfect state you see before you, Ichigo Kurosaki. It is the most epically and intensely comfortable couch you could ever dream of resting upon. Go. It's calling for you."

In fact, it was, in a metaphorical sense. Ichigo could not resist caressing the plush leather arms, or leaning in to smell the new-furniture scent that all newly installed pieces of furniture waft naturally. After a minute of couch-harassment, Ichigo settled in to the soft cushions and breathed deeply. _Damn_! he thought, _This is one comfortable couch_!

"I'm ready."

"Good. First question. We'll start off slow. When did you meet this... hollow of yours?"

"I met him after I fought Kenpachi. I really had no idea what was going on until later, but... that's when he appeared."

"Excellent. Now, when exactly did you start to have trouble with the hollow?"

"Umm... during my fight with Byakuya, he was giving me directions like a backseat driver the entire time! _'__Dodge left! No, your other left! Right hook, left hook, uppercut_!' Useless stuff like that until he _hijacked_ my _body_!"

"Hmmm. Interesting." Aizen absentmindedly tapped the pen he was holding on his clipboard, "How did it make you feel when he _'hijacked your body_'?"

"I felt like he was stealing my win, that's how!"

"So, did he stop?"

"Yeah, after I pulled the mask off."

"You _what_?"

"I pulled the hollow mask that started to form over my face _off_. Damn creepy thing, urgh!" Ichigo shivered.

"Impressive. How did ripping away that mask make you feel?"

"It felt _good_. Like I was... in control. Like I was free again- which I was."

"I see. And, are there any other barriers in your life? Preventing you from that feeling of freedom? Events holding you back? People, perhaps?"

"No. None."

"_None_?" Aizen looked up from his clipboard increduously.

"Well-" Ichigo's memory whipped back to the night he became a shinigami, when Rukia had bound him, mocked him. Later, that day when he was fighting for his mother, she had seen that he had no sure chance of ever fathering children.

Even a few months ago, after she was held captive and about to be executed, she told him to run even while he was rescuing her. Was she his friend? _Was she_?

"_Rukia_." His voice had a metallic, almost unhinged quality.

"Come again?"

"_Rukia Kuchki. The girl that holds my reins_."

Aizen's eyes flicked to the back of Ichigo's head worriedly. "Ichigo, could I get you to look me in the eyes?"

Ichigo slowly turned his head, massaging his neck against the heaven-on-earth that was the Ban-couch. While his face was the same, aside from a stupid grin, his eyes were radically different: they were nearly black with yellow irises.

Aizen merely shrugged and scribbled on a note. "I'll refer you to Captain Unohana for some eye medicine, and you, Ichigo Kurosaki, need to assert yourself!"

Not-Ichigo stood up and shook Aizen's hand, "_Thanks, Aizen. You've been a real eye-opener_."

"I try, Ichigo, I really do, but if you stay much longer, I'll have to treat you as a second patient."

Not-Ichigo smiled evilly, the slightest swirls of a white hollow mask beginning to form around his ears, "_Right_." And with a peal of insane laughter, Not-Ichigo rocketed down the hall and out the building with a speed-of-sound shunpo. Soon, numerous explosions could be heard, along with Not-Ichigo accusing the Kuchki girl of giving him a man-abortion before randomly blasting Byakuya's obscenely large house with his Bankai. To patient and therapist alike, it was quite satisfying.

"Aizen, you sly dog, you," the evil therapist laughed to himself as he reclined on the Ban-couch.

* * *

Got any comments? Suggestions? Ratings? Give me a review, if you would.


	2. Rukia

**Hey there! This is 2BfrankIMAhotdog bringing you another chapter of Aizen Sosuke: Psychological Therapist. Two reviews and a boatload of favorites? You guys are great! Sorry about the long wait: my Spring Break came a little early. Enjoy**

* * *

Next up is Rukia.

* * *

Rukia Kuchiki sniffled quietly as she entered Captain Aizen's office. It was a foggy day on soul society and it seemed that the weather felt exactly like she did; with a little dab of rain here, a minuscule snowflake there, it was as though the weather was as confused as herself.

Looking down at her feet as she crossed the threshold, she noticed the fog flowing into the room. Perhaps the fog needed help as much as she did.

Entering farther into the room, she saw Aizen sitting with his back to her on a woven mat, facing out the balcony to where his pond would usually be. But today, there was only a solid wall of grey kept away from the open window by some unknown force. His spiritual pressure, possibly?

"Good of you to be punctual, Miss Kuchiki. When everyone else is bogged down by the weather, you just keep moving."

She hadn't made a sound coming in.

"Th-thank you, Aizen. I-I need some help." Rukia quavered, shaking slightly.

Aizen tossed his hair flippantly back and chuckled quietly, "I know. You wouldn't be here if you didn't need help. Now, sit down, please."

Rukia found the therapist's couch and reclined, still sniffling slightly, "Th- thank y-you."

"You're welcome. Now tell me, Rukia, what's wrong?" His voice was as soft as the sea of fog around his feet.

"I-it's Ichigo. He's becoming more... distant.... That stupid holl- hic- hollow!"

Aizen waggled a finger at her, "Now, now, name calling never solved anything. How would _you _feel if the hollow called you 'stupid,' hmm?"

Rukia's eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat, forcing her out of her melancholy "I'd be terrified because that would mean he's loose!"

"And why does that frighten you?"

"Because that hollow is a psychotic killer!"

"You shouldn't apply stereotypes, you know." Another finger-waggle.

"It's not a stereotype if he actually does it."

"So it's not a stereotype for me to say that Captain Tosen likes fried chicken, or that Captain Soi Fon would love to tap you and everyone else in the Shinigami Women's Association?"

"I-"

"What if I said that Captain Komamura loves long walks in the park, hmm?"

"Well," Rukia slowly explained, "don't most people?"

"The _dog_ park?" Rukia winced slighlty. "Stereotypes _hurt_." Just for effect, a rainbow slowly arched over the therapist's head.

Rukia nearly puked.

"Well, he's a problem because he makes me afraid to be around Ichigo!"

"How so?"

"Because I don't know when he's going to... 'come out to play,' as he would say."

"What's wrong with a little play?"

"He _destroys_ buildings and people!"

"Probably empty buildings set up for demolition."

"And the people?"

"Everyone dies. He's really just quickening the process."

Rukia shuddered and quickly got up to leave, but was blocked by Aizen's spiritual pressure.

"Now, now, Rukia," he waggled his finger again, "If I let you go now, you won't get your money's worth." He then decided that the best way to get his patient to stay would be by unloading a boatload of spiritual pressure directly onto her.

"_O-okay_!" strained Rukia against the immense force that was quickly turning her into a pancake, "_I'll finish it_."

"Good." Aizen helpfully aided the young shinigami back onto the "therapy couch."

"Now what?"

"Now, you _juggle_."

"_What_."

"Juggling requires intense focus. Juggle every time you're around Kurosaki, Miss Kuchiki, and you'll be too focused to be worried about his hollow."

"I'll be too focused to _talk _to him. That would... defeat the purpose."

"Humor me."

"Do you... have any?"

Aizen smiled ever so slightly and produced a set of eight peach-colored balls from the folds of his kimono.

"_What_."

"Humor me, I said."

"I didn't actually think that you'd-"

"Much like Ichigo Kurosaki, you have no spine," he chuckled quietly.

"I thought you were a _therapist_." Rukia stared daggers at the smug captain before her.

"I practice tough love. Now, juggle my balls."

"Eww."

"Miss Kuchiki, I thought that after living several-hundred years, we could all just put our immaturities behind us, no?"

"Shut up."

"Juggling is a great stress reliever." He held the balls out to her, beckoning her to juggle them, "Hmm?"

She shook her head, amazed at the audacity and the ridiculousness of this captain. Face red with embarrasment, she slowly took the balls and began to flip them from hand to hand...

* * *

The next day, Ichigo and Rukia met up at a sandwhich shop so Rukia could tell him about her problems. Ichigo took her order and brought back the food a few minutes later. Much to his surprise, she was juggling.

Or attempting to juggle.

With two balls.

Ichigo was too dumbstruck to ask if this was some new fad she picked up, like her ideas on fashion. He merely stared blankly as on ball fell out of her grasp to the floor while the other knocked over someone's drink in the next booth.

The substitute shinigami slowly went back to their table with the sandwiches, sat down, and waited for Rukia's grumbling to subside before asking, "What the hell are you doing now?"

"Juggling. It's a great stress reliever."

Ichigo snorted.

"Get that stupid look off you face! You know it is."

"If you're too busy juggling to have this sandwich, I'd sure like to have it."

""Oh? No, I'd like it."

"Good. Now tell me, what's been-"

Once more, Ichigo Kurosaki was dumbstruck when he saw his mostly sane friend slowly tear the foot-long sandwich in two, take a bite out of one piece, toss it into the air, and take a bite of another. At the front of the line, someone who looked suspiciously like Aizen Sosuke applauded.


	3. Renji

Hello there! This is 2Bfrank bringing you my third story of _Aizen Sosuke: Psychological Therapist. _Once again_, _thanks for all the favorites. You guys are the best! Credit goes to Innosynce for the concept.

* * *

Next up is Renji.

* * *

It was an ordinary day in Soul Society when Renji Abarai marched down the corridors of Sosuke Aizen's complex. The birds twittered (no, not with iPhones) and the hell butterflies fluttered, but Renji just ignored them as he walked on by with a spring in his step, much to caught up in his own elation to notice. He came to a short set of stairs and began to whistle as he nearly _skipped _up them. He then twirled flamboyantly into the therapist's office with a hearty, "Hey Aizen! Are you ready?"

Outlined against the sun that spilled through the window overlooking his garden, Psychological Therapist Aizen Sosuke, was merely a silhouette.

Except for his glasses. _Those_ flashed ominously enough to sober up the red-headed lieutenant very, _very_ quickly.

"Abarai Renji. Nice to see that you're right on time."

Renji stopped at the doorway, afraid to enter further, "Thank you, Captain Aizen, so polite of you to see me."

"Your politeness is appreciated, Renjii. You look well."

"Thank you." Renji began to step into the dimly lit room when Aizen spoke again.

"You skip even _better_."

Renji immediately stopped mid-step and looked at Aizen who, if that way he was cocking his head was any indication, was probably smiling.

"How did you know... captain?"

"Lucky guess. It's not like I was watching you or anything. I haven't moved from this spot since breakfast."

"What have you been doing all this time?"

"Drugs."

Renji was taken aback: Aizen was known to be an easygoing, if somewhat creepy captain, _but_...

"I'm only kidding. I was signing documents! Now, what is your problem?"

* * *

It was an ordinary day in Soul Society when Byakuya Kuchiki stalked down the corridors of Sosuke Aizen's complex. The birds suddenly vanished and the hell butterflies whithered up and died, but Byakuya just ignored them as he walked on by with completely silent steps, much to caught up in his own troubles to notice. He came to a short set of stairs and walked up them, muttering curses about the size of Aizen's "barracks" and the complete lack of any "refined" art, like drawings...

He entered the poorly lit office to see...

Renji.

With his shirt off.

And Aizen.

Examining him like a work of art.

Byakuya resisted the urge to flash step away _very_, very quickly.

Did I say next up is Renji? Sorry.

* * *

Next up is Byakuya.

* * *

"Sosuke. What are you doing to my lieutenant?"

"Examining him like a work of art.," Aizen answered without looking up, "How do you do, Byakuya?"

"I have feelings of inadequacy that I came to express my concern about. What is Renji here for?"

"I also have feelings of inadequacy, sir," the pineapple-headed lieutenant answered with an idiotic grin.

"What kind?" Byakuya's eyebrow raised slightly in annoyance.

"Zabimaru keeps calling me a fag."

"Interesting," muttered Aizen, "the monkey side, or the snake?"

"Bo- wait! How do you know what my spirit looks like?"

"That's not important. Now, put your clothes back on." He walked over to his desk and snapped. All the windows in Aizen's office flew open with a blinding blast of sunlight, causing Renji to throw his hands over his face and Byakuya to do nothing.

"_My eyes_! _My eyes_! _My eyes_- ow!"

"Shape up. Is this how you represent your squad, Renji?"

"You didn't have to punch me in the face..."

"Cannonically, I never punch. Your senses are obviously lying to you."

Aizen rubbed his chin _evilly_ (if that is even possible...) and smirked, "You two fight like a married couple don't you?"

"What?"

"Yes, yes. That _is_ good. If I get through both of you right now, I can go play some golf!"

"What's golf?" asked Renji.

"A good walk spoiled, but that's not important right now. What is important is that we change the title to read-"

* * *

Next up are Renji _and _Byakuya.

* * *

"So," Aizen began, "who's first?"

Renji's arm shot up. "I'll go-"

"Naturally, I will go first."

"But sir, you didn't raise your hand."

"I didn't have to. This is what's known as a difference in rank."

"For that awesome burn, Byakuya, you've earned the right to be first. Now tell me, what is your problem?"

Byakuya paused, collecting himself.

All was calm.

He would not get emotional. Emotion was a river and he was a dam. The dam held strong. The dam would always hold strong. There was no other choice. There had never been another choice.

The sun was shining, the birds singing. A lone cherry blossom sailed through an open window and came to rest at Byakuya's feet.

He would be strong.

He began in measured tones, "My feelings of inadequacy stem from-"

Aizen cut him off, "I'm terribly sorry captain, but I don't believe that standing so stiff is right for this sort of therapy. If you would be so kind, would you kindly lay on that couch behind you?"

"The white one?"

"You can see that?- I mean, no. The other one."

"That looks like a commoner's therapy bench."

"As it is." There was a slightly mocking tone in Aizen's voice resembling that of their fellow captain, Gin...

Byakuya winced, but he would be strong. Emotion was a river and he was the dam. He gingerly reclined on the bench, feeling the rough cloth upholstery pull at the silk of his captain's uniform.

"Is there any time limit?"

"Tee-time is in an hour."

"What?"

"Never mind, just take as much time as you want."

"Much appreciated."

A cool breeze flowed into the room, focusing Byakuya's thoughts to that day, that hour, that minute, _that very moment, _when Rukia had looked into her brother's eyes and said "I want to become a-"

"So Aizen, how much are you going to charge for this sort of thing?" asked Renji.

The extremely anal captain opened his eyes and shot a death glare that clearly said "_Shut UP_!" But because actions speak louder than words and his captain hardly ever shouted, Renji merely responded with a casual, if hushed, "Sorry..."

That interruption dealt with, Byakuya settled down once more and composed himself. The breeze, the sun, the solid floor beneath him, the scent of cedar, all helped him focus, all helped him remember...

"It all began when Rukia wanted to be promoted to a lieu-"

_WHOOSH! _A small, fast-moving object zoomed over his nose, missing him by inches. There was a small impact as his eyes flickered open once more. Much to his surprise, he saw Aizen bent over a large rod with a round end. As he watched in amazement, Aizen cocked his arms back and swung, launching the ball at near supersonic speeds out the window and into the koi pond a hundred meters away.

"Um, Aizen," mentioned Renji as he pointed out the door, "you said that the hole was in the rock garden."

"Ah yes," said the be-speckled captain, taking a sip of sake, "that's why you never drink and drive. Golf and alcohol don't mix, naturally."

Byakuya coughed loudly, drawing the therapist's attention.

"Oh don't worry, I'm still listening."

"Intently?"

"Quite."

Byakuya merely raised an eyebrow before focusing once more.

"You might want to hurry it up," said Aizen, "you have about thirty minutes left."

Fuming, Byakuya began to relate his tale of woe once more.

"One day,Rukia asked me if she could be promoted to a lieutenant. Naturally, I was quite conflicted about this turn of events because I want to protect her, so I said 'no.' The next thing I was aware of, she ran off yelling about how I didn't understand her! All I want is to be able to '"know her better" _do you understand_?"

"Incest is a crime," Aizen inquired helpfully.

"_Shut up_! All I want is to understand where she's coming from."

"Um, Captain," stammered Renji, "she comes from her-"

"I'm docking you a week's pay."

Renji was naturally taken aback, "What-?"

"That was the most crude, vulgar display of male sexuality that I have ever heard concerning my sister."

"But-"

"No 'buts!' You of all people should know my anguish over this turn of events, Renji. It may be true that I do not show enough emotion. In fact, I try not to show emotion at all. But to tell you the truth, to tell you of the fundamental ideals that lead me and anchor my soul to the path I walk would make that overactive 'mini-zambimaru' of yours curl up and-"

**_CRASH!_** The sound of broken glass filled the office.

"_Senbonzakura_!" Byakuya didn't even bother to open his eyes: he merely released and directed the stream of minature blades towards the source of the noise that dared to interrupt his monologue.

Aizen's voice rang out, "Byakuya! No!" There was a sound similar to a hammer hitting soft wood, along with a girlish sort of scream.

Byakuya's eyes flew open to asses the carnage. Luckily, for his already sky-high insurance premium, there was relatively little.

"I'm- I'm s-sorry, C-captain Byakuya..." stammered Momo Hinamori, looking very surprised, "Would you like some tea?" Byakuya realized that this was a ridiculous thing to say at the moment, mostly because the broken porcelain tea set and the tea that had been inside lay in front of Momo, who was pinned to the wall by the thousands of tiny swords impaling her kimono. Byakuya stared for a minute before blankly sealing his sword, causing Momo to fall off the wall and into a heap on the floor. He apologized with an awkward "I am also terribly sorry, Hinamori Momo...." The silence, the same silence that he had embraced whenever he was signing documents, now suffocated him. Somebody _had_ to talk. Somebody had to break the silence.

He gently picked up Momo and put her on her feet, then walked over to Aizen and removed the scarf from around his shoulders.

"That tea set must surely have cost a great amount of money," he began, "this scarf is equal in value to several large houses. Please, take it."

He held the scarf out to the be-speckled therapist, waiting for him to take it. Aizen merely cocked his head quizzically. They stood there for about a minute, Aizen with his head cocked and Byakuya with his arm outstretched.

"Why do you not accept my gift?"

"Oh, no reason. It's just that... one lock of my hair can fetch several of_ those _scarves." He pulled off his glasses for full effect, maximizing Captain Kuchiki's view of his epic strand of hair.

Byakuya said nothing. Slowly, his hand crawled back to his neck, looped the scarf back on, and came to rest at his side. He stared blankly for another awkward minute until nodding absently and turning away. On the way out, he apologized once more to a still shaken Momo with a half-hearted "I will reimburse you for your kimono," before shuffling out of sight.

Everyone was silent. They stared at the doorway for a tense moment, waiting for Byakuya to return in a dignified yet self- righteous rage.

He didn't.

"Well," shrugged Aizen, "_he_ was certainly easy to annoy. _Too easy_, possibly."

"Hey Aizen," began Renji with a ridiculous smile on his face, "maybe we should invite him for a game of golf as an apology!"

Aizen chuckled as he pulled a gargantuan golf bag out of a closet and handed it to Momo, "Don't be ridiculous, Renji! Why, he's so stiff that he'd probably snap in two the first time he drives."

"Whatever."

And with that, Aizen, Renji, and a very topheavy Momo went off to play eighteen holes of golf in the human world. Naturally, this soon changed to Aizen, Renji, and a very relieved Momo, who received an offer from Renji to take the golf bag.

"Hey Aizen, what about my therapy?"

"What indeed?"

"Well, when are we going to have it?"

"Is it essential?"

"My social security is at stake."

"You mean self security, correct?"

"Yeah."

"Well, we could schedule it for the next chapter..."

"Umm, chapter?"

"Yes, Renji, 'chapter.'"

"What chapter?"

"_The _chapter."

"I never was any good at kido..."

* * *

Hey guys! Sorry for Renji's OOC-ness! As you probably guessed, next chapter is Renji, but you're welcome to leave suggestions regardless! Hope you enjoyed it!


	4. Renji II

Hello again! Sorry if my last chapter was somewhat lackluster, it's sort of hard to keep these coming at a reasonable rate with all the school activities going on. Howver, as a writer, I will do my best not to slight my readers! Enjoy the shocking conclusion to _Renji: the Chapter! _And remember, I do not own Bleach or any other copyrighted material within this fanfic.

* * *

Next up is Renji (for realz!)

* * *

It was a marvelous day on the Soul Society Captains' Course as Aizen Sosuke led his former pupil, Renji and his lieutenant, Momo, onto the golf course. The sun shined softly and a cavalcade of fluffy white clouds dotted the sky, giving a picturesque look to the rolling green hills of Soul Society's only golf course specifically open to captains only.

"It's so quiet here, said Renji as he looked around the course.

"Yes," explained Aizen as he unpacked the golf bag that Renji had so graciously carried, "golf is a foreign sport played by people in the far-off lands called western civilization. Naturally, it is quite inferior to any sport we have here, so the course was built, paid for, and can be used by anyone, so long as a captain accompanies them. However, it _is_ quite relaxing, provided that nobody is playing to win, of course."

"But doesn't that go against your philosophy?"

"What philosophy?"

"'In order for one to achive victory, there must be purpose in his swing.'"

"Ah, yes. In that case, no, it does not violate my philosophy-"

"But-"

"Renji, please! You and I and Momo are more than Captain and pupils, yes? I was under the belief that we were friends." Aizen smiled at his sappy speech, but soon regreted it after he found his lieutenant's arms crushing his waist with a surprisingly strong bear-hug.

"Oh, Captain Aizen! What a wonderful thing to say!"

"Why, thank you Momo- ah-ah-owch! Now, if you would, would you please allow me to begin?" Momo stepped away curtly.

"Renji, do you know why I brought you here?"

"To play a game, sir?"

"No. _I_ came here to play a game. I brought you here to perform therapy."

"How?"

"With my zanpakuto, of course."

"Your zanpakuto?"

"Kyōka Suigetsu's special ability allows me to put patients under a... mild hypnosis for theraputic purposes. With this ability, you will feel more relaxed, more open with your feelings, and become one more victim in my evil plot."

"What was that last one?"

".... More likely to live a full and healthy life afterwards. So how about it?"

"I'm game!"

"Excellent pun, Renji! Momo! Please get my balls ready while I perform therapy!"

"Yes, Captain Aizen!"

"And now," said Aizen, drawing his zanpakuto slowly, "if I could get the _attention of everyone on the course, _I will now release my zanpakuto." Every head naturally turned to see this spectacular event. All the golfers within view held their breath as... nothing happened. "False alarm, everyone, I'm _not_ releasing my zanpakuto."

"But Aizen-"

"Don't worry, Renji," Aizen muttered under his breath, "All you had to do was watch me draw it out. Now, don't freak out when you suddenly find yourself lying down in my office."

"What?" Renji began to flail around.

"I said, don't freak out. This is to minimize destractions and invoke a relaxed state. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. We will now begin. Are you ready?"

"Yep."

"Excellent. Now, what is your problem?"

"Well, I've been having problems with my zanpakuto, you see, it's sort of an asshole."

"Go on..."

"Well, usually and asshole, but now it's moreso than usual."

"How so?"

"Well, it... it... it calls me a fag."

"That's horrible!"

"Yeah, and the worst part is-"

"Good job, Captain Aizen!"

"Silence, please! I'm performing a very delicate state of hypnosis."

"Momo?"

"Yes, Renji?"

"I thought that this was all in my head."

"No, Renji. I've merely blocked your ability to see the golf course and sense your true body position; every other sense is perfectly intact."

"Ah, I see."

"Now, where were we? Ah, yes! What is the worst part?"

"The worst part is... it's very... how should I say this... _convincing_."

There was a sound like the tip of a pencil snapping.

"Are you taking notes?"

"No, I've merely punched through my scorecard out of shere shock."

"Sorry."

"It's not you; my lieutenant just scored a hole in one."

"Good job, Momo."

"Thanks, Renji."

"Now-" began Aizen, only to be interrupted once more.

"I have a question," said Renji, "If I'm laying down, does that mean that I'm on the grass?"

"No. You're still standing up. In fact, your body is following me as we speak. Try not to think too hard about it. Now where were we?"

"Zabimaru calling me gay."

"I see. What does your spirit appear as?"

"Well, it's a baboon... with a snake for a tail."

"How fitting." There was the slightest hint of a chuckle from Aizen's disembodied voice.

"What do you mean?"

"The baboon, a type of monkey, can be noted for its sexual prowess while the snake, well we don't have to go _that_ far..."

"How is this fitting?"

"I understand that you and Miss Rukia Kuchiki are quite close, yes?"

"We're friends," said Renji flatly, "close friends, but nothing more."

"Of course, of course. Now, I have a question myself. Have you achieved Bankai yet?"

"I don't feel comfortable saying this with Momo around."

"Why?"

"I don't know, it's just the principle of the situation."

"Oh, don't worry. She is currently stone deaf." Some distance away, Renji could hear Hinamori screaming at the top of her lungs to her captain that she was suddenly deaf. Aizen merely responded with a polite, if inappropriate, "If you can't hear me, Hinamori, then you are probably deaf," prompting Momo to say that she couldn't read lips. "Ignore her. Have you achieved Bankai yet, Renji?"

"Well..."

"Hesitance is condemmning."

"You're supposed to be non-objective as a therapist."

"My apologies. You have the option of whether to answer or not."

"Thank you. I do have a Bankai."

"Excellent. What form does it take?"

"It takes... ah... erm-"

"Really, Renji? Your zanpakuto is an ape with a Freudian appendage and you're having trouble with-"

"It's a humongous snake skeleton with a giant red afro."

"Whoa. I was not expecting _that_. Fore!" there was a slight pause, after which, by the sound of it, Aizen apparently conducted a victory dance before getting back to Renji. "So, you have a literal... boner for a Bankai?"

"Could you please be a little more _delicate_ about it? My self-respect is at stake, you know."

"Don't worry. All this shows is that your personality is that of a- _well_- a sex-crazed maniac."

"_What_."

"Kidding, kidding. I'm merley lightening the mood to help you relax, Renji. So tell me more; what can your Bankai do?"

"It can basically split apart without damage to itself and extend indefinitely and..."

"What else?"

"Nothing."

"You're oddly tense, even for this conversation. What else?"

"Nothing."

"Now, now, Renji. It's of the utmost importance that we're straight with each other, no pun intended. Tell me, please."

Renji sighed, bracing himself for the shame that would surely come, "It's the... baboon bone cannon. It shoots a ball of energy out of its mouth."

Renji could have sworn that the therapist was doing his best not to burst out laughing, "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No, but..."

"Renji! Pull yourself together! We have to finish before Hinamori wanders into Captain Kenpachi's swinging range."

"I thought she was blind, not deaf."

"You were miming with your hands. I had to ensure client confidentiality."

"So... you're not very good at using your zanpakuto's ability, are you?"

"No, not at all, Renji..." murmured Aizen before changing the subject, "Who have you used your Bankai against?"

"Well, there's Byakuya, Chad, Sayzel, and... that's it, really."

"Sayzel is a woman?"

"An Espada."

"A woman?"

Renji was silent.

"Renji."

"No."

Aizen merely sighed and scribbled on the score pad. "Has any woman gone up against your Bankai?"

"Heh, heh, 'gone up against'."

"Focus, Renji."

"Sorry, sir, no."

"How unfortunate." Aizen snapped his fingers, releasing both Renji and Momo from their illusions. Momo shook her head as her vision came back to her... and screamed as the wind from Zakarai Kenpachi's swing sent her sliding violently back to rest at Aizen's feet.

Renji helped Momo up and brushed the dirt off her kimono before asking, "So, what have you found?"

"Nothing yet. It's a completely ambiguous case. Come back in a week."

"A week? How am I supposed to pay-"

CRASH!

A very large wave of what looked like a hollow's cero struck the green where Aizen had been standing a mere second ago. Aizen flash stepped back as the dust cloud expanded. While Momo and Renji shielded their eyes from the scouring dust, the captain used that moment as an opportunity to look _exceedingly_ dramatic.

"Uraharah, you arrive," Aizen addressed the dust cloud, "but I feel inclined to ask, why?"

Urahara stepped out of the dust, his sunglasses gilmmering evilly in the sunlight, "I guess I just got tired of seeing you screw around with my invention."

"I see."

"I also guess that you're not going to hand it over so easily, now are you?"

"You are correct."

"Well, you know what this means." Uraharah drew his zanpakuto with a flourish and spun it around his wrist before calling out, "Bankai!"

* * *

I know a question that everyone should have and it doesn't involve golf: how the _heck_ did Momo's kimono get fixed last chapter? Who knows?

Will Renji finish his therapy? Will Urahara prevail over Aizen? Will your characters get picked?! Find out in the thrilling conclusion to the Aizen Sosuke: Psychological Therapist Golf Trilogy!


	5. Urahara

**Hello, everyone! Still with me? In just a few short scenes of mayhem, the Aizen Sosuke: Psychological Therapist Golf Trillogy will end, opening up free space for your suggestions! Hang in there!**

**As usual, I do not own Bleach or any copyrighted materials within this fic. **

**P.S. Notice any errors? The spell checker's a little off...**

* * *

Urahara rose into the air, encircled by a halo of eerie red light. At his side rose his zanpakuto, Benehime, which disappeared in flash of red light. When all of the flashy business was over, Urahara hovered above the golf course with what appeared to be a barrier made out of cero surrounding him.

"Like it?"

Aizen merely smiled, "What is its name?"

"I think I'll let you figure that out for yourself, Aizen."

"I also assume that you will not tell me what it does, correct?"

"Indeed, you are correct."

Aizen paused, massaging his chin as he slowly spoke, "So, the best way to test the depth of the water is with a stick... _Momo! Attack_!"

"You fool! She'll be destroyed!"

"Aha! You've revealed too much already, Urahara," Aizen gloated as he leapt into the air, "Bankai."

Urahara shuddered as something very large, white, and tastefully made crashed into his barrier, nearly knocking him out of the sky. The Ban-couch fell to the golf course with a dull _thump!_

"You're fighting me with a _couch_? Aizen, you insult my intelligence, trying to discern the effects through upholstery. Would you like a hint?"

"Why not?"

"_Very good_, my former pupil, very good. Renji, would you please quote what I told you when you were... _training..._ with Chad?"

Renji was taken aback, but answered anyways, "He said that his Bankai is not suited for assisting or lending others strength."

"Did he now? Well, that certainly rules out a few things..."

"Indeed," smirked Urahara, "but until the moment I strike, you won't be able to-"

"Tobiume!" cried Momo as she flew in from Urahara's blind spot, releasing a massive fireball that zoomed into the barrier. Urahara's Bankai apparently moved on its own, releasing blood-red tentacles that intercepted the projectile and pursued Momo, only to be blocked by a large snake made out of bones sporting a stylin' afro. The searching tentacles merely whipped around Renji's Bankai, renewing their pursuit of Momo while simultaneously spreading down Zabimaru's shaft. Apparently, Renji was attempting to crush the tentacles with his Bankai's skull as it dove to chase the crimson mass, but it was all for naught. Both Renji and Momo gasped in surprise as the red cero-tentacles struck, exploding in clouds of crimson smoke.

"What an interesting Bankai. Too bad I've found your weak point."

"Impossible. You're bluffing."

"Oh really? Am I bluffing when I theorize that your Bankai takes near-complete control of a living creature? Don't try to lie; I can see the surprise in your eyes, Urahara. I noticed how Renji's phallic Bankai turned on him. Oh yes, I noticed that. While Renji is an idiot, he's not such an idiot that he'd crush himself with his own attack. Therefore, the only reason for that specific dramatic action would probably result in his zanpakuto turning on him. Likewise, the fact that it is no longer attacking him means that you are probably controlling him, too. It was quite clever, I must admit, but it would have been much wiser not to use it on _that_particular Bankai."

Urahara cocked his head and smiled sheepishly, "I guess you weren't bluffing."

"I never bluff, because I'm... _Aizen Sos_-"

"Oh, shut up! You're human just like everyone else here-"

"Actually, we're Shinigami, remember? Would you like to talk about your power complex?"

"My what?"

"Your power complex. I'm surprised I didn't see it until you released your Bankai-"

Urahara shook his head dissappointedly, "I'm afraid you have me confused with Hyori."

"I'm never confused, because I'm...-"

"Way of Binding number twenty-two! Cry from the North, Song from the East, Voice from the South and Whisper from the West! Go forth and conquer all that lies between! Binding Space!" Urahara stretched out his right arm and pointed at the evil therapist. A small object that resembled a spider web zoomed towards Aizen's face, but he merely shunpoed out of the way.

"More evidence of your power complex," the Captain of the Eighth Division smirked, "That kido does nothing but silence the target. Frankly, it has no use in a one-on-one battle, and I don't have any allies to converse with if you decide to sick my lieutenant and my former pupil on me."

Urahara smiled and sat down inside the barrier, "You got me. How about this? You diagnose my... power complex, and I'll leave and release Momo and Renji. Naturally, however, this means that I will return at an undetermined point in time in order to exact my revenge. Agreed?"

"Will you take Renji with you? He can be quite annoying."

"I thought he was Captain Kuchiki's lieutenant."

"Does it really matter?"

"Well," Urahara mused, "I guess not. After all, an assistant _is_ an assistant..."

"So you'll take him?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Excellent."

"Wow, that was easy."

"You had me at hello."

"I never said hello," protested Urahara.

"Irrelevant. Now," Aizen began, "tell me your tale of woe."

Urahara removed his hat nervously and scratched his head.

"I've never talked to anyone about this."

"That's fine. You may drop your aloof persona."

"But... you're my enemy! You're plotting to take over the world!"

"Several planes of existence, actually, but that's beside the point. Here, on this fabulously soothing golfing green, we can just glare at each other like fellow rivals and talk it out." Aizen spread his arms out dramatically. Urahara was unimpressed.

"It's a trick."

"I haven't figured out how to reach you in there," explained Aizen.

"You're lying."

"If I was lying, we'd still be fighting."

"I thought we still were."

"Your crazy-preparedness appears to have made you... crazy," Aizen smirked.

"True, but it just doesn't feel... normal."

"I don't think that's a problem for you, Mr. Hat-and-Clogs."

"Also true. Ah, well. Since I can't attack directly and you can't reach me, either, let's talk."

"Good choice," praised Aizen. "Now, when can you remember first influencing another's life for your own gain?"

"Well..." the outcast began awkwardly, "Would you believe immediately after I fled Soul Society?"

"_What_?"

"Yeah. I was so vengeful, I began plotting the moment I landed in the human world. Wacky, huh? Anyways, I introduced Isshin Kurosaki to his wife and-"

"_You're_the reason Ichigo exists?"

"Pretty cool, huh?" Urahara's barrier touched down on the grass, but did not vanish.

"I'll say! Tell me more. What other pursuits have you been up to?"

Urahara rubbed his stubble-encrusted chin in mock reminiscence, "Weeelllll... It's been a while, after all."

"That it has."

"I could tell you about how I've taught the Vizards how to unleash their Ressurections, which I never taught them how to control-"

"What?" Aizen gasped.

"Or I could tell you about how Isshin, Yoruichi and I trained with the Royal Guard just to learn their techniques, which cannot be stopped by anyone in Soul Society-"

"Incredible!"

"I could even tell you about how Ichigo's a Vizard, too. He's pretty powerful by himself, Ive got to admit, but with a hollow? It's-"

"Insane," breathed Aizen.

"Exactly! But do you want to know what's _really_wrong with me, Aizen? Do you want to know my deepest, darkest secrets?"

"Indeed," said Aizen, his face aglow in expectation of the wonders he might hear.

"Everything I told you," said the outcast, reaching into his pockets, "was a _lie_. But do you know what's worse?"

"You're not taking Renji with you?"

"No," stated Urahara simply, "I've rigged the entire golf course with bombs on the off chance that you might take up golf." Aizen could now see a small, black remote in his opponent's hand with one prominently displayed button. Urahara's thumb was on the button. Urahara pressed the button.

"_Boom_."

* * *

_Boom _

_Boom_

_Boom_

Aizen sat bolt upright in his bed, his face covered in an uncharacteristically cold sweat. Someone was knocking on the door.

_Boom_

_Boom_

_Boom_

Climbing out of bed, the therapist composed himself as best as he could, calming his nerves by breathing deeply and finding his glasses although he saw perfectly without them. He slid open the door, letting in the sunshine, his visitor, and an escape from his nightmare.

"Hello there- _Gin_? I wasn't expecting you here so early."

Gin's smile never faltered an iota. He merely cocked his head and slurred, "Captain Aizen, I was wonderin'; wha' day is it tha' we take the Hogyok-_mmph_!" His eyebrows raised as Aizen clamped one hand over his mouth and dragged him into the dimly lit office.

"Not outside Gin, _not outside_." Tut-tutted Aizen as he sat Gin down on the Ban-Couch. "We attack next Tuesday."

"Oh, I see." Gin twittered. He then reclined on the Ban-Couch for a while before speaking up again, "So, if t'day isn' when we take over, an' _somethin's _t'day, wha' day _is_ it?"

Aizen clasped his head dissappointedly before muttering, "Gin. Today is... Valentine's Day. Love is a scary, scary thing. You're a scary, scary guy. Go spread your scary love all across Soul Society." The silence was palpable.

Gin had a strangely blank look on his face. The strangely blank look then spread into a sinister smile that threatened to break the laws of reality and spread right off of his face. He got up slowly and shuffled towards the door, his hand apparently on his sword...

"Thank ya' Captain Aizen. Valentine's Day is my _fav-rit_ day, after all..."

* * *

Bland? OOC? Please comment so that I can improve. But you gotta admit, Gin is a craaaaaazy guy! Keep sending your requests! I mean to cover most of the characters eventually!


	6. Hitsugaya

**Hello, everyone! Welcome back to Aizen Sosuke: Psychological Therapist! Once more, I bring you tales of psychological thrillers (or maybe not...). Is it art or "trash" (_Not today, Ulquorria, not today..._)? You decide!**

**I don't own any of the materials within this fic... _yet_.**

* * *

Toshiro Hitsugaya gazed coldly at the empty office around him. It was typical of such an easy-going screwball as Captain Aizen to be late, but the fact that Toshiro was waiting in his fellow captain's office just felt ridiculous. He could be performing a million other tasks, like sighning documents or playing soccer, or working on getting some respect out of his Lieutenant... Deciding that Captain Aizen was probably out doing something incredibly frivolous, like playing golf or dancing the cha-cha while wearing a hat made out of fruit, the young captain sighed and decided to try again some other time when a voice spoke up right next to his ear.

"Waitin' for Captain Aizen, are ya'?" giggled Gin, smiling like a cat as he stood in the doorway. "Sorry if I scared ya', _Lil' Shiro_."

Hitsugaya flinched as the silver-haired manchild spoke Momo's embarrassing nickname for him, but he held strong. "Don't worry about it, Captain Ichimaru. You don't scare me. I'm just irritated that Captain Aizen can't keep the appointments he makes."

Gin gave an exaggerated, childish nod.

"Ya' got an appointment with Captain Aizen? Are ya' one of his psychill-o-logical patients?"

Hitsugaya sighed again before answering, "I'm not a patient, Captain Ichimaru. I'm a _client_."

"I thought ya' were just shor-" Ichimaru began, but instantly regretted it as Toshiro Hitsugaya, the youngest captain to ever join the Gotei 13, leapt into a close-range flash step and tackled the fox-faced Gin without even slowing down. The takeoff, which splintered the walkway beneath them, was impressive to say the least. Roughly thirty meters away, Hitsugaya and his victim came in for a landing right in the middle of Aizen's koi pond, where Hitsugaya began pounding on the unfortunate Gin while holding him under.

"Say I'm short _again_, Gin! _Just say it_!" Fortunately, Gin couldn't tell the furious captain anything, as his head was full submerged beneath the murky water. Unfortunately, he couldn't breathe for the same reason. Hitsugaya grimly considered holding Gin under until he stopped struggling, but a light tug on his shoulder brought him to his senses.

"Um, Toshiro-kun?" Momo Hinamori, knee-deep in the pond, began worriedly, "I... understand that Captain Ichimaru can be... pretty creepy sometimes, but you don't have to drown him..."

Toshiro shifted backwards and let go, allowing Gin to rise from the pond, his smile unsurprisingly absent. Another person appeared behind Hinamori. This person happened to be wearing a hat made out of fruit...

"It is my understanding, Captain Hitsugaya," Aizen Sosuke explained, removing his fruity hat, "that you have stated that if any man makes Momo bleed, you'll kill him. I have similar opinions about-"

"I'm terribly sorry, Captain Aizen," stammered Hitsugaya, "I should have thought about how you consider Captain Ichimaru to be a friend as well-"

Aizen snorted with laughter, "Gin? So sorry, Captain Hitsugaya, but I was referring to my koi."

"_What_."

"Didn't you hear me the first time? My koi." Aizen explained with his gravest voice and (eerily) his brightest smile, "If you make any of my koi bleed, _I'll kill you_."

Unperturbed, Hitsugaya raised one eyebrow and stared into those scary, shiny glasses. "_Great_."

* * *

Next up is Toshiro Hitsugaya

* * *

After gingerly stepping out of the pond, apologizing profusely to Gin, and promising to pay for the damage to the walkway, Toshiro was led back to Aizen's office, where the captain- slash- psychologist produced the fruity hat once more. Once he had sent Momo out for some tea, Aizen turned to Toshiro, put on his hat, and told the young captain his prognosis.

"I've decided that your condition involves anger management."

"I haven't even told you my problem," grumbled Hitsugaya in a low voice.

"I know. Fortunately, I was able to see your problem firsthand."

"But- _Captain Ichimaru_! And the crazy popping out of nowhere! And the 'Lil' Shiro' and the 'Short' thing!"

"Calm down, Captain Hitsugaya, I understand. Nicknames can be quite demeaning-"

"I agree, and that's what I came here to ask you abou-"

"So why do you call Gin "Captain Hannibal"? I don't believe that he eats people. Gin, do you eat people?"

Hitsugaya quickly turned to see the ever-smiling Gin standing in the doorway. While most captains could move very quietly, Gin's skill was just... unreal.

"Nah, I don' _eat _people, Captain Aizen," he smirked, "I jus' nibble a lil'. Nice hat, by the way. And speaking of lil' stuff: hello, _Lil' Shiro_! I see yer calmed down now. That's ..._nice_."

Toshiro cringed, resisting the urge to strangle Gin.

"Why are you _calling_ me that?"

"Callin' ya what, Lil' Shiro?"

"_That_! Why are you calling me _Lil' Shiro_?"

"Oh! That. Well, I-" Gin fidgeted before Hitsugaya muttered through his clenched teeth.

"Spit it out, _Gin_."

Gin's smile came back unnervingly quickly.

"I found _this _in Hinamori's room," he giggled. Gin reached into his kimono, pulling out a small book bound in leather. Hitsugaya gasped: the bindings were basically leather straps that had been carefully woven and tied to make the spine of the book. But as anybody with a brain could probably figure out, a handmade book isn't exactly gasp-worthy.

The cover, which _was _gasp-worthy, bore the two words that made Hitsugaya desparately want to crawl into the deepest hole he could find, and dig deeper.

"_Momo's Diary_? The hell?"

Aizen cleared his throat, "Actually, Captain Hitsugaya, I believe that I am to blame for this occurrence. You see, I found this on the washing machine, and I just had to read it."

"It's exceedin'ly goodly writt'n," chimed Gin.

"I really had no idea that you would be featured in Lieutenant Momo's diary, Captain Hitsugaya. I truly am sorry. Now, don't you want to read?" Aizen nodded his head and Gin held out the diary an arm's lenght away from the unamused captain. Hitsugaya lifted one eyebrow.

"_We have a washing machine_?"

"What a ridiculous non-sequester. It's almost like you think you're in a dream or something."

Hitsugaya didn't miss a beat, "The only thing ridiculous here, Captain Aizen, is your _hat_."

Dead silence filled the room. The two captains stared at each other while Gin was caught between a giggle, when looking at Hitsugaya's super-serious face, and a bemused smile, when looking at Captain Aizen's delicious headware.

A slight breeze wafted through the room, carrying with it a lone cherry blossom that came to rest between psychologist and patient. Hitsugaya reached for his sword. Aizen did likewise. Gin vanished.

"It was a simple question, Capatin Hitsugaya. Reading all of those secrets could be... _relaxing_."

"I would rather fly into a rage every other minute than destroy our friendship."

"How... _touching_. Go, Gin!"

Hitsugaya turned, but he was far too late to dodge the gallon of honey that Gin had somehow managed to sneak behind him. After the vat of honey was empty, he was simply too stunned to evade the pillowcase full of feathers and too perplexed (_and sticky_) to avoid Gin's index finger colliding with his forehead. Incredulous, Hitsugaya toppled backwards onto a canvas that Aizen had rolled out during the chaos to avoid messing up the wood floor.

But Gin wasn't through just yet; crouching down next to Toshiro's head, he chirped, "Not so high and mighty now, huh, Lil' Shiro?" He then reached into his robes once more, pulled out a can of whipped cream, and gave Hitsugaya a moustache and beard. He had just gotten up to leave when Momo Hinamori returned with the tea in hand.

It was an odd sight, with her captain in a hat decorated with various assorted fruits, her best friend covered in honey and feathers with a creamy white beard and moustache, and Gin... well, being Gin. She would have ignored it if it weren't for a corner of a leather-bound book stucking out of Ichimaru's kimono. In one swift motion, she set down the tea, flash stepped over to Gin, and reached for the book.

In one _swifter _motion, Gin slapped her twice across the face with the diary, slid it down the back of her kimono while pulling it over her head, and pushing her so that she fell with her face on top of Toshiro's. When she rose with her zanpakuto drawn, Gin reached again into his kimono and pulled out a helium ballon, which he jabbed into her mouth, causing her to inhale in surprise, before pushing her down again and sauntering out of the office. Hinamori rose again to inflict her unholy rage upon the smug captain, but doubled over with laughter at the sound of her scream of anger. With his work done, Gin nodded curtly.

"It's a wonder how you can do that all so smoothly," commented Aizen.

Gin giggled and grabbed his forehead in mock fatigue, "Hoo-boy! Inflictin' all this meanness really wears me out! Bye-bye!"

Hitsugaya was doing his best to unstick himself from the canvas when Aizen appeared over him.

"Actually, Captain Hitsugaya, I'm _not _going to fix your anger issues. It's really too much fun when you're so serious. Now how 'bout another dip in my koi pond, eh?"

Lil' Shiro didn't even have time to scream.

* * *

To answer everyone's two main questions, yes, Gin has the universe inside his kimono, and yes, he is a Hitsu-Momo shipper.

See ya' later!


End file.
